Daylight savings time has arrived and with it comes a bit of sleep deprivation.
One letter. “Z” is for Zzzzz.
The phrase “spring ahead” comes to my head like I am ten years old again. Years later, the memorized phrase still reminds me which way the clocks will fall.
In honour of the special occasion (okay if not an occasion, how would you refer to the time change?), I present you with a poem.
This is christyb, I measure time with poetic words.
A shift of time, like shifting of the earth’s tectonic plates,
Except this one is scheduled by man, pre-planned and routine,
An excuse to call in late for work, claiming forgetfulness
To move forward the house clocks, claiming ignorance
to move forward another day.
For time is already scarce,
Scarce as money for the coatless man
Who lives behind the apartment building next door.
I wonder if he is glad for the shift, one less hour in the dark, one less
Hour in temperatures that chill his cheeks and tighten his heart.
I remembered to move ahead my clocks and now I remember the man,
I think about what kept my home from becoming cardboard, and
What kept my cheeks warm on a pillow last night.
I pick up the phone and call my mom, I tell her I am okay,
I went for a walk earlier and got some fresh air.
I can hear her smiling and my mind sees her face,
She is one reason I have a pillow,
She was one of the lights that appeared within my dark tunnel.
© 2012 Christy Birmingham